Written by Alice Phann
I was always watched in the family,
They told me I never needed friends;
These friends didn’t cradle my body when I came to,
They didn’t swaddle me until I couldn’t move—
Now the old family house still has that caricature of me
Framed in gold, against the still blue of my old sanctuary;
The closet is empty except for that swimsuit hanger
I got from Costco that no one will use,
The throws and the blankets are in trash bags on that
Shelf I never grew tall enough to reach;
The family standard my fingers barely graze,
The warmth that I craved to earn—
There’s a lone mattress on the floor when I visit that room,
But my sister’s room is empty—
I hate being the last one standing—
The dreaded favorite.
I think about that blue room when I enter the small, cream one,
With its cotton dark blue curtains shading the summer sun—
A second home I never thought I’d see,
With the bookshelves I wanted and those draping plastic leaves;
Pictures of my school friends clipped to the vines,
Clothes that fill the belly of my closet so full,
I couldn’t close it, so now there’s a TV on the floor;
Everything I ever wished for, but who do I have to show?
These walls aren’t as empty as the old ones,
I’ll make it all my own—
I’ll make it the beloved home I couldn’t have,
I’ll fill it with warmth and heart and soul.
I post photos of a new haircut,
Where the tips touched my grin—
My eyes blazing under the slits of sunlight
Through the broken blinds—
All those sleepovers and parties
All those late nights and bad dates
All the shopping sprees and latest movies
Would be within reach—
But why is it so quiet?
When will I be invited?
The leaves fall off the trees,
As the warmth of the summer fades
And my breath begins to be claimed by the air
In pockets of puffs—
I act tough, no one has approached me
Because I’m mysterious, the new girl—
Dressed in a dark turtleneck one day,
A bright pink dress the next—
I hope I kept someone guessing
Though this isn’t a movie, but maybe it is.
There’s no snow this year,
So, no meeting the neighborhood kids—
Most of them my age has moved anyway;
I think about what my family told me,
How my friends would never need me
And that they’re shadows I like to chase—
How the schoolwork on my desk will
Get me farther than anyone will—
Maybe everyone has forgotten me in the ways
They said they wouldn’t.
The people here brought their friends—
I don’t know if I was ready to start my life,
Or if I wish everyone here would’ve started theirs,
But maybe they have and I’m being unfair—
I’m not in a small town anymore,
And nobody believes that small towns
Are anything to adore, but
Where’s the wild extravert who was going to adopt me
Or the bookworm in a sweater I could comment on?
I can’t see picture I wanted to step into anymore—
Suddenly I can’t commit;
Maybe my family was right and
I crave the shadows I chased away;
I wanted the light of the new dawn.
Do I really miss the still blue walls closing in?
Should I let it swaddle me like it always did?
Now with my hair once again draped over my face,
The walls of the cream room bare,
Sitting before that TV on the floor,
Where everything remains black and cold and hollow,
I can’t recognize the face looking back at me—
That mysterious new girl is nothing but bitter and lonely,
But surely, there must be someone on their toes
So why is it quiet?
Why wasn’t I invited?
